#but they would have connected on such a level

[da-janela-lateral]

Terumob is an excellent ship to me for a variety of reasons, but one of my highlights is the fact that on one hand you have a blond boy with the most absurd coping mechanisms ever seen by man, who spent years being suffocated by apathy and loneliness and spite only to be absolutely obliterated by a random kid who introduced him to the concept of "You're A Human Person With Flaws", and as a consequence developed an unhealthy homoromantic obsession with him (as rivals of course) until he is obliterated again, but this time with the revelation that his dear rival also is a Human Person With Flaws and that doesn't stop blond boy from loving him even if it gets him killed.

On the other you have another boy with bad coping mechanisms, but that in the tiniest outcome he starts liking blond boy back, it is pretty normal and unrelated to all the dramatic obsessive previously mentioned things. There is no tragic flair its just that his good friend is handsome and kind with him.

[thefugitivesaint]

"it's the dancing that kept them going" Maintaining joy in your life as an act of resistance is the kind of motto more on the Left should embrace. "...joy serves as a healing balm that sustains both the people and the struggles inherent in revolutionary times." In the words of Audre Lorde from her 1978 piece 'The Uses of the Erotic': "In order to perpetuate itself, every oppression must corrupt or distort those various sources of power within the culture of the oppressed that can provide energy for change.” In other words, fight the good fight but don't omit having fun in the process. That's not being glib. You have to remind yourself what you're fighting for while providing for yourself (and the ones you love) the "energy" necessary "for change." It's a sentiment found in the work of the anarchist Emma Goldman, an expression that has been reduced to a paraphrase, "If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution." She wrote in her autobiography 'Living My Life' about an incident where she was pulled aside and chastised for dancing: "At the dances I was one of the most untiring and gayest. One evening a cousin of Sasha, a young boy, took me aside. With a grave face, as if he was about to announce the death of a dear comrade, he whispered to me that it did not behoove an agitator to dance. Certainly not with such reckless abandon, anyway. It was undignified for one who was on the way to become a force in the anarchist movement. My frivolity would only hurt the cause. I grew furious at the impudent interference of the boy. I told him to mind his own business. I was tired of having the Cause constantly thrown into my face. I did not believe that a Cause which stood for a beautiful ideal, for anarchism, for release and freedom from convention and prejudice, should demand the denial of life and joy. I insisted that our Cause could not expect me to become a nun and that the movement would not be turned into a cloister. If it meant, that I did not want it.

'I want freedom, the right to self-expression, everybody's right to beautiful, radiant things.' Anarchism meant that to me, and I would live it in spite of the whole world - prisons, persecutions, everything. Yes, even in spite of the condemnation of my own closest comrades I would live my beautiful ideal." Back to Lorde, "In the way my body stretches to music and opens into response, hearkening to its deepest rhythms, so every level upon which I sense also opens to the erotically satisfying experience, whether it is dancing, building a bookcase, writing a poem, examining an idea. That self-connection shared is a measure of the joy which I know myself to be capable of feeling, a reminder of my capacity for feeling. And that deep and irreplaceable knowledge of my capacity for joy comes to demand from all of my life that it be lived within the knowledge that such satisfaction is possible, and does not have to be called marriage, nor god, nor an afterlife." .... "In touch with the erotic, I become less willing to accept powerlessness, or those other supplied states of being which are not native to me, such as resignation, despair, self-effacement, depression, self-denial."

[gnohomotho]

heyyy this is really specific and kinda silly buuuuut I'm really sick and feeling down.. could I request some Inho fluff? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

maybe some like ~caring for you~ & looking after you with a femreader? 👀😍 thank youuuuu and love your fics!!

Aw, Anon, I'm sorry you're feeling awful. :c Please have some kind In-ho fluffy TLC (I hope that still stands for "tender loving care").

Focused on the love and care! ♥♥♥

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I'll Look After You

Pairing: Hwang In-ho // The Front Man x wife!fem!reader Summary: As the prompt says. ♥ But you aren't feeling well at all, and your husband, through anything from tea, to baths, to a massage, is going to keep the sickness away. Warnings: None at all. Just fluff. So much fluff. Word count: 2.4

If you like my works, I truly appreciate every like // reblog // follow! <3

A little stir in in the night.

As if you were having a bad dream. Without you knowing, In-ho’s eyes open in a fleeting second, the man doesn’t seem to sleep – only wait with hands intertwined laid across his chest as his breathing gets more level. You’ve tried to catch him several times, being ever-so-quiet, barely shifting the blanket – just to see him dreaming or peacefully at rest, yet that man could sense a spider’s step at the other end of the building and react accordingly.

But this time, you sat up, abruptly, after many tries at keeping your state to yourself and forcing a mental hammer to your temples just to remain at least half asleep. Your breath was fast, your head pounding, you put one hand against your face with a sigh.

“My heart?”

You hear a quiet, yet very alert voice next to you. The covers shift, and he is sitting upright next to you, in the exact same position as you are, seemingly immediately. Dark eyes fixed on you even in the semi-dark wherein you blink to adjust. You can make out your husband’s unassuming form, sitting in the comforting, quiet stillness; so very bare, so very…endearing.

Before you say anything, an arm is softly wrapping around you and pulling you closer. In-ho seemed at war with every millimetre of distance between you, especially in the night. Even in his stoic sleeping position, heaven help the blanket that got between your skin and his.

“I’m sorry, I just…I don’t feel too good. I didn’t wish to wake you, darling, truly. It’s probably nothing.”

You smile at him and your head pounds. The naked arm around your waist, forearm against the cold skin of your stomach and his hand firmly rested against you with fingers outstretched, remains in place. You feel a slight tightening of his grip, though it is protective, rather than forceful. His other hand moves to your chest with utmost care. It is a slow, noticeable movement – In-ho was purposefully showing you what he’s doing so that you don’t get stressed nor surprised.

The gesture melts your shivering heart a tad – that was always a point of contention between you two.

Using his dominant arm to half let you, half force you to rest against him and be upheld in place, In-ho was now free to assess. Somehow, your breath felt more at ease each time your chest bumped into his steady hand. You relax a little, glad for the support. Even in the darkness, his skin smells so familiar and safe, his almost naked body still exuding quiet authority, yet his arms and his…entirety shared with you…is so very human.

It’s just…your In-ho. No dark fabric or twisted words to cloud the very human skin now firmly rested against you. Even your legs are connected as he sits beside you.

At war with every molecule that would linger between you.

“Your heart rate is elevated, your breathing is…laboured.”

“In-ho, I feel fine just---”

“Don’t talk,” he humms, rubbing the top of your chest as he speaks, resting a palm against your sternum and across the nape of your neck, where his hand remains, “I can feel it must hurt to do so,” he adds, in a softer tone. You only shoot him a look in the darkness, knowing he is likely wearing that same caring, troubled, yet serene expression he always does when he is slightly worried or being obtuse.

In-ho moves to check further, resting a hand upon your pulsating head, cupping your cheek then resting a palm on your forehead.

“You’re burning up, my dear.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and you pull away, only to be caught by the arm around your waist and pulled back. There better not be a raised eyebrow in the dark, In-ho.

“If I’m running a fever, I don’t want you to get sick, I should get away from you immediately---”

“Oh, no.” A soft murmur and kiss on your shoulder. A brush of hair upon your skin underlines the gentleness of his lips.

“Oh, no. No. No.” With each “no” there is another kiss. Soft. Calm. Reassuring. So very gentle.

Eyes adjusting to the dark, you can make him out in the contrast and those eyes, almost unblinking, focusing their entirety on you with such…restrained tenderness.

Were you not feeling this way, you’d slowly move into his arms and hold him, hear his heartbeat and let him run his fingers through your hair as you rested against his chest. You valued the closeness, the intimacy, the still careful yet true love you felt for him, and he, in his unspoken way, in the way he nudged your bodies to connect to become one, the way he unwittingly wrapped around you, the way he would rest you in the crane of his neck or under his chin whispering things no one would believe him to say, could express more than words ever could.

And you knew the feeling of your sleepy head and soft strands of hair resting on his skin calmed him down, though he would never admit it. You knew by the way his breathing always seemed to slow and grow calm, letting his chest lift more rhythmically; by the way his fingers drew small ellipses through your hair, and by the way he twitched and immediately tightened his arm around you from shoulder wherein you rested all the way down to his wrist, should you try to even remotely adjust your position.

Now he was looking directly at you, any remains of sleep firmly gone from his voice.

“After securing Y/N within this exact position. Into this exact place. After so very long and after such effort – I am to simply let my wife walk away? When she is feeling ill, no less?”

You really aren’t in the mood for this In-ho. Perhaps the one who is busy with other matters and returns when you are feeling healthy again. That In-ho. That In-ho doesn’t exist, and you know it. You sigh, but there is an understanding smile lurking behind the breath.

“…In the middle of night? On the day of my daughter’s wedding? While I’m still holding my keys?” Your sarcastic yet sweet attempts to soften the blow did not work as intended, though you did hear a small chuckle. No, you just get yourself wrapped up in a blanket before you realise his arm is gone (the man really has surprising talent in the oddest of places) and a kiss on the forehead solidifies the deal you didn’t even get a chance to bargain about.

“Stay here,” he humms as he begins to get out of bed, smoothing the blanket behind him.

“Because I’m obviously going places, so very free to spread my wings.”

“Oh, my heart.” He looks at you with such adoration, head slightly leaning to one side. You’re not sure if he’s still playing or simply letting his guard down so very far. You allow yourself to smile into the darkness, closing your eyes. The tiredness and feeling of weakness draw your heavy head into the pillow and you drift off.

A small click beside your head stirs you half awake.

“In-ho?” You mumble and get ready to get up, forgetting your blanket enclosure.

“Shh. Don’t talk.”

In-ho gently caresses you through the blanket, then slides his hand inside, cupping your warmth for a while. He then softly takes your arm out and slides his fingers over yours, intertwining them with his, then closing his hand over your palm.

“Tea with medicine to your left, sweetheart.”

You’re very thankful and begin to say so, before a single look into those dark eyes firmly reminds you of the previous suggestion. Perhaps you don’t need the medicine after all, the fever will go down if he throws more ice in that stoic expression your way.

You lift the arm out of his grip, which he allows as patiently as he does slowly, and you lift the hot cup to your lips. It quivers in your grip, and he immediately steadies it, catching your hand on the hot surface.

“Drink.”

“In-ho, I can manage---

“Drink.”

There are times you forget who really rests beside you, and the nonchalant yet firm suggestion does its due diligence to remind you. You lift the cup to your lips and drink the comforting tea, with In-ho guiding the empty cup back to the bedstand with your hand in tow. He then slowly guides it back, still intertwined with his, and holds it to himself, massaging your palm with both his hands.

“I’m drawing you a bath,” he states, simply, and you know it’s going to be full of herbs and means of making you better, the towels as soft as snow, the floor warm. In-ho did not relish words, as they could be misconstrued and twisted, sounding flimsy and signifying nothing – but his actions could speak sonnets.

You sit up a bit, able to see him far better now – your In-ho, now only half naked, eyes calm yet piercing, mouth harbouring a small unnoticeable smile, demeanour calm yet alert. His shoulders ostensibly fall as you look longer, as if he’s trying to calm you down by looking calmer himself. Softly reaching a hand across your shoulders, he pulls your hair away from your neck and lets it rest across your chest to one side. His fingers trail around your neck at the very same time, as if he could not miss an opportunity for a caress and reassuring touch.

“Turn around, darling.”

And you do, still very much woozy. In-ho, now with your back to him, removes the rest of your hair from the nape of your neck and plants a tender kiss just between the bottom of your head and beginning of your shoulders.

“Dear, you’re tense.”

As he says so, you feel an arm softly pull at the blanket, brushing it against the skin of your upper arms and down, down, until it is resting against your forearms and around your waist. A shiver runs through you, trembling all in its wake like a small wave of ice. In-ho immediately catches it with both deliberate hands – firmly rubbing your shoulders and laying his chest against your back. The naked, hot skin, the rubbing motion creating heat, and the mere fact that it is him does help warm you a little, though he makes a mental note to adjust the heating once your attention is elsewhere.

Soft, intricate, yet firm hands, like those of a piano player, begin to move upwards and massage your neck, moving to the muscles around the very top of your spine. Circling, rubbing, and kneading all under their touch.

After a little while, they move to your shoulders. As if he was going through mounds and ossified waves of stress, heaviness, worry, sickness – and simply letting them dissolve in his fingers and slip through, leaving you be.

A grateful, alleviated sigh leaves your lips – and In-ho can hear the wide, if tired, smile upon them, kissing the sensitive place between your shoulder blades in response and remaining there for just a second longer than necessary. How does heat emanate from a single kiss and how does it cover your quivering body in the equivalent of warm honey from cold tip of the toe to the very place he kissed and up?

Once In-ho has touched, cherished, and unwrapped all of your upper body muscles from their layers of blocked pain and distress, he turns you around and lays you back down, laying with you. His arm is around your shoulders nudging your neck in its crane, his head is so close to yours you could kiss the tip of his nose, your bodies are as close as they can be without intertwining. Your eyes are softly closing on their own, feeling so blissfully tired and calm, as if a weight was lifted from every centimetre of your body. In-ho can see it, and watches it with very masked delight – your trust, your bliss, your comfort…your tranquillity in his arms.

Your peacefulness and loving eyes now closing in a slow, restful motion and a body at such ease that time seems to slip slower around the both of you – all under his watch, under his body, under his direct action and control. He slips errant strands of hair from your face, kissing your cheek where they rested. You smile into the kiss, eyes closing, and nudge your forehead against his. You remain like that, for a few seconds, just enjoying the closeness and the open pathways of your body that melted under his touch. His forehead does an ever-so-slight, almost unnoticeable side to side motion, and you cannot help but smile wide at the hidden adoration the man holds for you.

“I think your bath is almost ready,” a soft rumble from his enters your chest as he speaks, softly, into you more than to you, “but I find it hard to let you go.” As if to underline the words, In-ho’s leg nudges towards yours, caressing you through the blanket.

“Would you mind company?”

Now it was your turn to lift both eyebrows and attempt to disconnect from him just enough to be audible.

“I’m not sure.” You lower your head slightly to kiss his neck, an advantage you’ve learned to use every time he places you in such a loving yet firm embrace.

“Will the company be half as sweet as the company I hold now?” The hint of innocence and genuinely curious inflection did stir something in your companion, and you felt the grip tighten – then turn into a caress.

“Oh, I’ll make sure to leave them thoroughly yearning to wish they were.”

In-ho was a man of truly odd hidden talents. At one moment, you were wrapped up like a labyrinth of blankets, limbs, and kisses – the next, you were somehow firmly in his lifted embrace, holding onto his neck and shoulders with each arm, while his arms held you under your knees (which you instinctively squeezed half for stability, half for the snuggle) and around your back under your arms, making ample use of the space created by you having to cling upwards.

You blink, and without looking around, nestle in the small of his neck, laying your head in the comforting warmth as he adjusts you to himself with one motion and smiles into your hair. With another kiss, he carries you to the bath...

And does not leave.

[theotherchaospixel]

so many thoughts running through my mind; just gonna spitball real quick

yeah, softlocks are no good. alternatively, you can only continue by going back to a previous time or save or checkpoint and trying again; this is back-tracking, and players might hate that even more than softlocks. also, don't wanna make it so the Orpheus player feels like they're having to protect or walk on eggshells around the Eurydice player; that's an escort mission, and is even more lowly regarded than softlocks & backtracking; i mean, team fortress 2 had an escort mission mode early in development, and it wasn't fun for this very reason: it's boring for both escortee & escorter.

that said, there are games which have made all of those types of problems interesting. stanley parable & portal comes to mind. those two examples at least use their story & dialogue to make the softlock less frustrating & more like an easter egg. bioshock infinite is one big escort mission, but your escortee can't be killed & in fact helps you a lot. team fortress itself uses the different classes & characters to make players naturally feel like they're working as a team, even though none of them particularly need to do so. legend of zelda uses weapons & tools as a prize in dungeons in order to make back-tracking feel different in technique than normal backtracking.

i'm also reminded of that one textpost i saw from forever ago which used the medium of item descriptions in RPG to imply a story, like it starts with "this blade means something to you, but you don't know what" to "your late wife's blade" as it levels up or you progress.

then there's like left 4 dead, where there's a respawn condition - if a player dies and is not saved, they can come back once a certain amount of progress is reached without them.

i'm imagining a version of this game where - as the eurydice character could conceivably die at any moment - the world is noticeably different in her absence, and noticeably different each time. like, the color red disappears when she's absent, or some puzzles require a different, much harder solution. that way, there's like... a point to the failure, but it doesn't completely negate things. it feels natural to me for it to be a horror game, where the horror is in not knowing, not having total control over the state of the game. maybe, like lethal company & some other games have done recently, include proximity chat that can just falter on its own, creating a sense of discomfort and worry based on the assumption that something bad happened. i mean, that's how the original myth goes: on the way back, they talked, but at some point, Eurydice went silent, and in his worry, Orpheus turned to look.

there also should be like a purpose for the Orpheus character: realistically, I think a lot of players would probably realize "oh, i can't look at Eurydice, but she needs to do something, so I'll just look straight down or straight up & let her do that." that's both lame & boring. so, maybe they have their own puzzles to solve, their own things to do. maybe they're not even playing the same game: maybe Orpheus is doing puzzles but Eurydice has to play a shooter, maybe Eurydice is doing platforming but Orpheus has to play a rhythm game, maybe Orpheus has to work with RPG rules but Eurydice gets free movement. definitely feels like there should be some asymmetry to the gameplay.

maybe there shouldn't be any voice chat. maybe there's story that the characters talk through, and there's things that the players can make the characters call out, but, taking a page out of journey's book, maybe it pairs up 2 players totally randomly, 2 players that may have never met before; that way there's stakes to being sure to play the game right, that way the state of the failure condition completely changes, where it stops being a failure to progress in the game & starts being a cessation of connection. i think you could get really psychological with that. you start playing the game, get paired up with someone you don't know, and continue through until one of you makes the fatal mistake of looking at each other, at which point the connection breaks and you have to live with the loss of this person you've gotten to know, gotten used to, and have to start over with someone new; your progress doesn't reset, but you - the player - are directly affected by the loss. much like the story itself. i mean, orpheus doesn't just die after losing eurydice, he doesn't lose his progress, but he does lose a connection that he may never get back.

fuck, i wanna play this now.

Here's a useless thought my head just supplied me with that I absolutely can't use.

Co-op game where if one player sees another, they die.

Both die? Just the one who does the seeing? Just the one who is seen? All players or just one crucial character? Do reflections count?

"Don't turn around. I'm right behind you. I'm going to put the mcguffin down behind you and go around the corner, I'll tell you when it's safe to turn around; let me know when you're looking away again."

[bunni-v1]

Pure Vanilla Sfw & Nsfw Headcanons

🍓These are shorter than SMC's, purely (hah) since there's less to say about nsfw headcanons. He's a really simple guy, alright? Anyway, I hope you enjoy these. I'll be working on the poly hc's soon and also some requests -- cookie run related and not. Love you all MWAH!

MDNI (Seriously I'll find you)

Tw: None?; Grammar errors

Info: Pure Vanilla Cookie x Reader; Fluff; Angst (only a little); nsfw

-Pure Vanilla Cookie is a gentle soul. His hands are soft and kind to any and all he meets, and he does the most he can to keep the peace amongst those he holds dear. His calm demeanor makes him seem like the perfect candidate for a partner, but I’m gonna be 100% this guy has issues. 

-He has very real trauma from the Dark Flower War that keeps him up at night, despite how much he tries to hide it. Betrayal from one of his dearest friends also haunts him, despite things being… different now… it sticks with him as it would any normal cookie. He’s insecure to a level that a god-king should not be capable of, but he certainly feels that insecurity deeply. Oh, and he never got over White Lily Cookie.

-It’s also very likely that he wouldn’t deem himself ‘worthy’ of being loved in such a manner, especially after the situation with White Lily. He can’t save his friends, he can’t save his subjects, what would he do if he couldn’t save a lover? It would be better not to have his heart broken like that.

-Not to mention his experience with relationships is… sparse. Other than White Lily Cookie, he hasn’t really had much romantic experience – nor did he want to. His focus is often set elsewhere, and his humility can frequently get in the way of forming genuine connections with others.

-He’s so incredibly old now, he feels like his time has passed. Besides, any cookie who might proposition him is far younger, and while he respects them he wouldn’t want to get in the way of their opportunity to connect with someone who could be a better match.

-Not to mention he gets propositioned a lot. Many cookies like the idea of him, but few can actually handle how patient and gentle he really is. It doesn’t upset him, nor does he hold it against them, it’s just how the world seems to work out.

-Excuses, excuses, excuses with him. They’re never-ending.

-Then, of course, there was you. The sweet cookie you were, you had the patience of a saint. Any excuse he came up with, you seemed to find a way to prove him wrong. (You make him second guess if he really is patient, with how much you wait on him and work to prove him wrong).

-He isn’t testing you by any means when he pushes you away. Pure Vanilla Cookie really does believe you could do better than him. (Him! How could you do better than him!?) He’s trying to save you from himself, but the more steadfast you are the more he starts to fold and bend to what you like.

-It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy having you around, he quite prefers it when you’re by his side. You’re also so very pretty, he gazes at you when you aren’t looking more than he’d like to admit (his staff gives him quite the stink eye for this one). Your patience with him is admirable, and you make such an effort to get close to him. You’ve more than proven that you are serious about your confessions to him.

-After (literally) a thousand years, he decides just to try again. Leading you on was cruel, especially when he reciprocated your feelings, so he makes the effort of a confession – and great cookies above it was sweet.

-He brings you to his pagoda, a place you frequently spend sitting quietly next to him. He knows you’re fond of it, especially of the white lilies that bloom around it. You sit next to him as usual, staring off into the distance in thought while he watches you through his lashes. Your beauty is something he loves to behold, and he wonders if the kingdom would be alright if he did so for the next thousand years. Just like this, quiet and alone in the place you’ve both made your own.

-You laugh when you catch him staring, and his dough burns hot – both from the melodious sound and from being caught so shameless. He doesn’t let it linger too long, taking your hand in his with care he hadn’t shown you much yet. It’s a bit odd for him to suddenly be physical with you, but when he looks at you, and I mean looks at you, you understand what's happening.

-He tells you how he’s grown into his fondness for you, that he appreciates your patience with him and giving him a chance to think things over in himself before pushing him into a choice. He expresses what he loves about being around you and how he feels like himself when he is near your side. How he aches when you aren’t around, and that he worries for you all the time even though you’re more than safe in the walls of the kingdom.

-He goes on for so long that you have to cut him off and tell him you get the point, which just makes him laugh because that is something he likes about you. You never let him get too far ahead of himself or too deep in his head before you pull him back up for air.

-And, while you might’ve fallen first for his gentleness and his kindness, he falls leagues harder than you ever could. After his confession, he goes out of his way to have you around, and it’s not until nearly all of your things are within his room that he realizes maybe he got a little too deep a little too fast.

-Then you smile that smile and all his thoughts are washed away in favor of following after you on whatever adventure you had planned in the kingdom for the day.

-As a partner, believe it or not, Pure Vanilla Cookie is not physically affectionate so much as he is verbally affectionate. He prefers showing his love through words and acts of service. He will run himself ragged to make sure you won’t worry about anything. You’ll have to step in and stop him at times because he will go to the ends of earthbread for you.

-He’s so giving, always thinking of things he can do for you or gifts to get that would make you smile so widely at him. It’s something the other Ancients tease him relentlessly for, especially Golden Cheese and Hollyberry. 

-Though, they are all fond of you in their own way. It’s been a long time since Pure Vanilla has been so… contented with things. He finds pure joy in doting on you, and he feels secure having someone who loves him as he is. None of them can disapprove of you when you make him so happy.

-They tell you embarrassing stories of him when he was younger, not a hero or a god, but a regular cookie who tripped over his own two feet and made a fool of himself. They tell you plenty of embarrassing stories about him having earned his power too and believe that to be true, but the ones they seem most fond of are those before they rose to their current titles.

-Pure Vanilla always huffs and pouts, but doesn’t interject much more than that when he sees the wide grin on your face. Seeing you get along with his long-time friends is very important to him, so he’s glad they’ve taken a liking to you. 

-Even Dark Cacao Cookie seems to like you, humoring your little jokes and jabs as you give them. He feels as though he’s chosen the right cookie to love – though, he supposes you chose him and he just followed your lead like he always does.

-There is one tiny dilemma, though… White Lily Cookie. See, it’s not as though she is a threat to your relationship at all. She would never and could never interfere, even if she still held feelings for Pure Vanilla (if she ever did in the first place). Pure Vanilla is just a trainwreck of grief and regret surrounding her, his dearest friend.

-His love for you has never wavered, not once since he fell for you, but for a moment when he sees her, he’s terrified that it might. All of those feelings hit him at once, and he is again that reckless young cookie at the academy following her around like a lost puppy. She looks at him and his heart races, then it sinks to the pits of his stomach.

-How could he be so selfish to consider hurting you in such a way, for even a moment? He and White Lily Cookie were no longer the same as they were before their falling out, he knew that, and yet his past crept up on him like a monster in the shadows. It makes his stomach churn.

-But you lay a hand on his arm, and you give him this look like you know exactly what’s going on, and suddenly it’s all alright. You’re right here, and you’re all he needs. He knows that more than anyone else.

-That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting in your chest when you see the way he looks at her, but you know your Pure Vanilla. He would never do anything to hurt you, he was the kindest and most loving cookie you have ever had the privilege to share your life with.

-Now, with that established, we can divulge into him as your partner.

-As I mentioned he’s very giving, but he’s terrible and receiving gifts from you. He’s not used to it, and he may outright refuse to accept it, but if you push him he’ll give. He always loves what you give him anyway, even if it’s the smallest insignificant thing. It always gets displayed somewhere he can see it, or he makes a way to use it in his daily life.

-It takes him a while to be open with you. He feels his feelings and thoughts are a burden on you, so his worries usually go unspoken unless you notice them yourself. 

-If you notice something and point it out, he’ll tell you what's wrong. He wouldn’t want to lie to you and make you more worried about things. He downplays it a lot, though. It takes a lot of stubbornness on your part to get him to open up and admit when he’s feeling really bad.

-He does let you in little by little, and you get to see more of Pure Vanilla as he is beneath all the smiles and passivity.

-I also mentioned that he’s verbally affectionate over physically. He gives you so much praise it makes your head spin in circles. Everything you do is worth praising in his eyes, even silly little things like finding your way through the castle or grabbing yourself something special to eat one day.

-Constantly mentions how lucky he is to have you, his admiration truly knows no end. Ah, and he speaks of you all around the kingdom. Other cookies think you’re a literal saint thanks to him, and you’re treated with so much respect by those in the cookie kingdom.

-Gingerbrave, Strawberry, and Wizard Cookie all adore you, and get so very excited when you offer to go on an adventure with them. (Much to Pure Vanilla’s worry and dismay.) The way you interact with them makes Pure Vanilla’s chest ache at the sight. You’re so wonderful with children, he loves seeing the way you handle them with love and care. Makes him wonder what you might be like with children of your own… Ah, that’s not a trail of thought he should go down too far just yet. One day, though.

-As sweet and loving as he is, he’s fiercely protective of you. He’s lost quite a bit in his life, and he knows he will lose more, he’d like to prevent another loss if he can help it though. If you argue with him, it’s almost always about this.

-He doesn’t like you going to dangerous locations, he doesn’t like it when you leave his side for more than a day or so, and he certainly doesn’t approve of you putting yourself at risk for adventure. Usually, you settle this by just having him come with you, but sometimes even that isn’t enough for him.

-Regardless, the angriest you see him (other than the Shadow Milk incident lol), is when you are at risk. It’s easy to forget he’s very powerful, akin to a god, but he is. He is not afraid to use that power to protect you if he must. (It’s lowkey hot I’m ngl.)

-Now he’s not the type to go overboard with this kind of stuff, he’ll only do what he must to remove the threat if he has to. He is not afraid to be violent if he needs to be, though. Immediately after he will worry over you with such gentleness it will give you whiplash.

-He’s aware his outbursts of anger are uncommon and jarring from his usual demeanor, but he’s just a cookie after all. He loves you very much, and if he can keep you safe he will for as long as you live.

-Jealousy is rare from him, which is to be expected, but he does get jealous. Specifically when he sees you interacting with cookies in a way he can’t interact with you. Physical affection is usually what gets him upset.

-Not that he can’t be physically affectionate, but that he has a hard time being physical with anyone. It’s a difficult thing he struggles with, and while you’re understanding and loving, he can’t stop the rare annoyance bubbling up in his chest when he sees one of your friends touching you so casually.

-It’s the only time other cookies might get to see him frown around the kingdom, a displeased expression etched across his normally gentle features. It won’t fade until you return your attention to him and make him feel validated in his feelings.

-After these stints, it is common that he drags you (pulls you gently by your hand) back to his room and cuddles up to you in the quiet of his bedroom. He’ll whisper his worries at your insistence, and melt into your touch as you soothe him instead of scolding like most others would.

-Oh, and it’s very very bad when Shadow Milk Cookie is involved. Shadow Milk knows just how to get under his skin, and you are an easily accessible soft spot.

-Not only is Shadow Milk far more open in expressing himself than Pure Vanilla is, but he’s very physical with everything. While Shadow Milk may not see you as anything more than a doll to play with, it infuriates Pure Vanilla to see him touch you and flirt with you like you are his when you are Pure Vanilla’s. 

-He brings out that possessive side of Pure Vanilla that he represses as hard as he can. He doesn’t want to share you, though. Not with anyone and especially not Shadow Milk Cookie. You are his life partner, the person he loves more than anything in the world, that’s not something he’s ever had before and he doesn’t want anyone else to be able to feel what your love feels like. Allow him to be selfish just this once.

-I also have a belief that ancients have something similar to a beast bite, though it’s less common that any of them “mark” a partner. Pure Vanilla is the least likely to leave such a mark on you unless you seem insistent upon learning about it.

-Functionally it’s similar to the beast bite, but there is no need for biting in their case – they can if they’d like to, though. Instead, it’s just a magical seal that can be placed upon your dough that resembles their souljam. It connects the two of you physically and emotionally. 

-When Pure Vanilla misses you, it sends a wave of sadness through you. A longing that is not your own, but feels so familiar to your own that you could easily mistake it as such. His emotions always come in big waves that nearly drown you then quiet down again as soon as they come.

-Pure Vanilla, again, wouldn’t place one on you unless you really wanted it. If you did, though, he would place it right where your spine meets your neck. The little blue mark peeks over the tops of your shirts like a tease, reminding everyone who you are with.

-Just because he is kind doesn’t mean he can’t also be a little possessive of you. You’re wonderful, after all, he can’t risk any cookie thinking you’re available.

-Besides the blue looks stunning on your dough, if he says so himself. And he does.

-Now, onto the bedroom.

-To start I’ll say Pure Vanilla is deceptively innocent-looking. It’s easy to imagine he feels no urges or wants in a sexual sense, but that’s not true at all. He’s just good at repressing them. And he’s repressed them for years and years and years.

-His sexual experience is probably also low, but I can imagine he’s had sex previously with a cookie or two (maybe even White Lily, depending on the circumstances). The important thing is that he has experience, and he’s not as awkward about it as one might think.

-It’s very similar to how he falls in love with you, once he gets a taste he really can’t stop himself from falling further and further down.

-He’s very patient though, so he won’t initiate your first time together. He’d rather you decide that since he’s more than ready to do whatever you’d like. (He’d been thinking about it since three months in, but he didn’t want to move too fast so he just pretended nothing was wrong.)

-When you do decide you are ready, he is there waiting with open arms for you. He makes sure your first time together is all about what you want and focuses on making sure you feel good. He’s a people pleaser in every aspect of his life, including the bedroom.

-But, if he had to pick what he preferred, he’d probably admit to being a service top. He likes to make you feel good, and he wants to know everything that makes your body react to him. He treats it like a secret ancient knowledge that only he is privy to. 

-He likes to know you in every aspect of your life, the bedroom is no different. He takes his time always, preferring to go slow and steady rather than fast and rough. He’s a quick learner too, picking up your likes and dislikes with an ease that would make any student jealous. Within two, maybe three sessions he’s got you read like a book. It’s infuriating how easily he manages to get you to melt under his touch.

-If you want to top, he’ll oblige you, though you can tell he really prefers taking care of you over being taken care of. There’s just something so special about being allowed to have you like this. So soft and pliant beneath him. All the trust in the world rests on his shoulders, and he holds it like it is the most important thing in the world.

-And he is so, so giving during sex.

-He takes his time with you, starting with slow and deep kisses that trail down your neck. He worships you like a god, smothering your dough with his affections. Not an inch of you will be left untouched from his lips, burning your skin into his memories so he never forgets how it feels beneath his tongue.

-And he whispers such loving words of admiration, talking about how wonderful you are for him. Mumbling against you that you taste so sweet and that each noise you make sounds like a symphony to his ears. He encourages you to let go, allow him to love you as you are, and let him see all the most vulnerable sides of you because that is all he wants.

-When he tastes your juices he sighs like he is in heaven. His pleasure is only found in you, after all. Your taste is something he could easily fall into addiction for, just like every other part of you.

-You can be rough with him while he goes down on you if you’d like, he doesn’t mind at all. Grab and pull at his hair, grind yourself into his face, and squeeze him between your legs with all your might. They’re just signs he’s doing his job right, after all.

-Oh, he’s a huge proponent of eye contact. While he can’t quite see well all the time, he always has his eyes open and on you when he can help it. This is especially prevalent when he is inside you (or when you are inside him).

-He presses his forehead to yours and watches your face contort in pleasure, allowing you to do the same. It makes the act more intimate, and he feels so much more connected to you like this. Like he can really see you for who you are in these moments, and feel that love that burns for him in your gaze.

-Alongside this, he always holds your hand. Regardless of if he’s going down on you or if you’re riding him or anything he is adamant your hands remain interlocked. It’s another layer of connection that he uses as a means of expressing his love for you.

-If you can’t tell, he’s seriously into body worship. He loves every inch of you, and sex is the easiest way that he can express this to you.

-He uses sex as an extension of his affection for you, rather than something for fun or to stake claim. It’s another form of love to him, and you can feel this through the way he treats you with such gentleness during the whole act.

-I don’t believe he’s into much other than what I’ve listed above. He’s very vanilla (lol) and traditional about sex, preferring things to be simple, sweet, and loving. 

-He prefers to keep things in the bedroom, the idea of being caught makes him run hot, but you can convince him to try a few riskier places. Like the pagoda or in quiet rooms near other cookies, so long as the doors are locked and there’s no risk of interruption.

-He does not like being cared for during the deed, it makes him feel guilty that you’re caring for him when he would rather care for you. If you are insistent he’ll give in, but he makes it known he would prefer to be providing than being provided for.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Yearning

The sequel to part two: Feasting on You

This part contains no smut, but does continue the story of Eris and the Reader yearning for a babe. (You can skip it if you just want to banging, but I needed to give myself a LITTLE BIT OF CONTEXT.)

Contains: Fluff, loss of a partner, sexism, Beron Vanserra making me want to commit anarchy, hope of pregnancy, crying children, a female being made to feel small, jealousy, class discrimination.

Word Count: 3,495

Summary: As you continue to work through the quiet reality that you may not be able to have a child with your mate, Eris Vanserra, you are still required to continue your duties as second to the High Lord. You are holding court with your mate and council when a female comes with a request for aid, bringing her own children with her and causing you to ache for a babe of your own to hold in your arms.

Writing:

A few days slipped by, and while the persistent anxiety of not producing an heir gnawed at the edges of your mind, you hesitated to bring it up to Eris. What was the point? You questioned yourself. Yet, the nagging thought kept returning—unrelenting. The Healers had reassured you during your last consultation that conception required nothing more but time and patience, and there was no precise science to guarantee success. Much of it relied on the stars aligning, just right, and the coincidence of perfect time. You had hoped that by creating ample opportunities for coincidences might increase the odds. But it appeared that fate preferred to mock you with its own cruel designs.

Moreover, bringing it up with Eris might only burden him with distractions from the litany of other responsibilities he had before him. You didn’t want him to feel obligated to comfort you over something you felt shouldn’t have been a problem to begin with. Still, you found yourself lying awake late into the night, trapped in the swirl of thoughts. It clung to you like a dense fog, unwilling to lift. One moment, you seemed resolved to let it go and let nature take it’s course, but the next had the heavy weight of uncertainty pressing down harder.

Among your myriad of duties was holding court with Eris. The Autumn Court, rich with deep-rooted traditions, convened every few weeks for this purpose. These sessions were open, designed to allow the citizens direct access to the High Lord with their grievances and requests. Though Eris often found himself unable to resolve many of these issues, he cherished this time as a vital opportunity to connect with all the beings he governed. He believed it was crucial to uphold the tradition where those residing within his borders would have their voices heard.

Unlike his father, Eris had wanted his mate present at these gatherings. He hoped that having a female presence in the room, attentive to the requests presented, might inspire some of the court’s females to bring forth their own matters. His intuition seemed to have borne fruit, as more females seemed willing to engage.

Eris leaned forward in his intricately carved, high-backed throne, his eyes narrowing with intense focus as the male standing before him detailed the problems caused by a persistent drought in the southern region. He spoke of the desperate hope for relief from the poor crop yields. You maintained a carefully crafted facade of attentiveness, lightly nodding along as Eris asked probing questions, questions to which the male eagerly responded, eager to explain his plight. Finally, Eris clapped his hand against his thigh with a decisive smack. “Wonderful! We shall continue to monitor the rainfall levels, and until they have increased, your production quota will be reduced by twenty-five percent.”

The male before you beamed with gratitude, his smile wide and genuine. “Thank you, my lord and lady, you cannot understand how much weight this lifts from our shoulders.”

Eris returned the smile, his expression warm and reassuring. “It’s no trouble at all. I am grateful you made the journey here to discuss it, and I wish you the safest return home.”

The male offered Eris a light, grateful smile before turning. His footsteps echoed softly in the grand room as he exited, the heavy doors swinging closed behind him with a resonant thud.

Eris turned to his right, speaking to the council seated beside him. This was yet another aspect of holding court that you despised; it was one of the few responsibilities that forced you into the proximity of Eris’s father. You did your utmost to avoid meeting his gaze, pretending as if he were absent entirely.

At the far end of the room, the announcer cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the air as he introduced the next audience. “Lady Sibel of the Northern Forests.”

The grand doors swung open, their hinges creaking with age, revealing a petite female dressed in a rather plain garment. She stood hesitantly in the threshold, accompanied by a smaller figure—a little boy, no more than four years old, with a mop of curly brown hair and a smudged face peeking out from behind her skirts. His tiny fingers clutched the fabric tightly as he gazed curiously down the hall.

“Let’s go, Peter,” the woman beckoned softly. She reached behind her, gently taking the child’s hand, and began walking down the center of the hall. Her initial nervousness was evident, but as you offered her a polite, reassuring smile, her tension seemed to ease. She came to a halt before you, licking her lips nervously and fidgeting slightly as she prepared to speak.

It wasn’t until she stood directly in front of you that you noticed the tiny bundle snugly strapped to her chest, adjusting ever so slightly beneath the soft folds of fabric that nearly blended into the drape of her gown. Your heart caught in your throat as you heard the delicate, melodic coos emanating from the bundle.

“My lord,” the woman addressed Eris with a respectful nod before turning her gaze to you, “My lady.”

Eris inclined his head in a gesture of polite acknowledgment as she continued speaking. “I apologize for any inconvenience, but I have come today to seek assistance for myself and my children.”

You swallowed with difficulty as you noticed the little boy shyly retreating behind her flowing skirts once more.

“My husband,” she gulped as though holding back tears, “Was lost to an accident on the famr, and despite my efforts to maintain our land, it has become overwhelming for me to manage alone. Especially with the little one,” her hand gently reached behind her skirts, tenderly tousling the little boy’s unruly mop of hair, “and the newborn,” she glanced down with a soft, protective gaze at the precious life cradled close to her heart, “I’m just not able to care for the land like my husband was.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Eris offered, his voice laced with genuine empathy and shared sadness. The female merely nodded, her eyes glistening slightly as she swallowed hard.

“He was a good husband,” she observed slightly.

The small bundle issued another coo, though this time it seemed tinged with a hint of irritation as it’s mother lifted her hand to the babe. Her fingers tenderly patted it’s tiny back while she softly swayed to soothe it.

From the place beside Eris, Beron’s voice cut through the quiet, cold and unfeeling. “What are you here to ask for?” he demanded.

The female’s eyes flicked nervously toward Beron, and before she could muster a reply, Eris interjected, “What can we provide to ease your burden?” His words were carefully chosen and soft in delivery.

Collecting herself, the female took a quick breath and steadied her gaze. “I was going to ask if there’s any possibility of selling a portion of my land back to the court, so that I might have more time to care for my children,” she explained. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes flickering between Eris and his father.

Beron let out a cruel, lifeless laugh that slithered into your bones, igniting a furious blaze within you. “You’d rather squander the property your husband left you in death than secure another male to shield your estate?” he spat, each word dripping with disdain and venomous mockery.

The female’s eyes filled with terror and disbelief, her fragile features—etched by years of sorrow—now laid bare as you could see memories of endless, tear-stained nights in a home meant for her families own growth, now empty and dark. “No, my lord. I cannot just recklessly give away this land without weighing the cost. If only I had more time beyond the tending, I could properly care for my children—” she began, her voice trembling, only to be brutally cut off.

“Countless females had lost their husbands to accidents and still clawed their way to survival—by finding another male to shoulder their burdens and entrusting him with their wealth,” Beron snapped.

Shaken, the female stuttered as her small babe emitted another disgruntled squeal. “I understand, my lord. But my husband was my—and my children’s—entire world—I cannot just replace him with another,” she pleaded, her voice quivering.

Beron’s lips curled into a sneer of scorn as he retorted, “Clearly you’re more than capable of bearing more children. With such fertile allure, I imagine you’d easily lure another male eager to impregnate you again—to secure his own lineage. And more children mean’s more hands on the farmlands.”

As his voice thundered louder, the little babe’s cried echoed ominously around the courtroom. “It seems you have no genuine desire to change your lot when you were born with every advantage to rise above. Instead, here you stand, clawing for handouts instead of doing what females have always done, which is to use their sex to their advantage.”

The babe erupted into wails as the small boy sought refuge beneath his mother’s skirts while the sorrow-stricken widow let silent tears trace down her cheeks. She tried desperate to interrupt the tirade, but Beron’s relentless mockery drowned out her please.

Finally, Eris intervened, his voice crashing over his father’s like a raging storm, “Enough!” he declared, and you could swear the light along the walls trembled in response.

The courtroom was flooded with silence that pounded in your ears other than the wailing screams of the babe. The mother’s tears came more heavily now as she turned her face down to look at the tiny bundle that squirmed angrily in their sling. She pat at the babe, shushing it, trying to soothe them but her own despair seemed to only make the babe more irate.

“I will remind you that you are no longer the High Lord, and have no right to make such statements in the presence of my court.” Eris hissed towards his father.

But as your mate unleashed a torrent of scolding upon his father, struggling to wrangle the court back into submission, you sprang to your feet, urgency propelling you down the stairs of the platform toward the distraught female.

She was consumed by hot, wrenching sobs, desperately attempting to soothe her screaming babe, her voice trembling as she shushed it. The small boy clinging to her skirts had joined the chorus of cries, his tiny hands clawing up at his mother for solace.

The guards that flanked the walls stepped forwards, readying themselves to intervene, but you waved them back, your focus laser-sharp on the sorrowful creature before you. The heated argument between Beron and Eris faded into irrelevance, your entire being centered on the female.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as she lifted her tear-streaked face to meet your gaze. She recoiled slightly, as if fearing your approach would only bring further reprimand. You slowed your pace, softening your demeanor. “I’m so, so sorry,” you repeated with a fervent sincerity.

She shook her head, her voice trembling, “He’s right,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t have come here asking for help.” Her sobs deepened as she jostled the babe.

“No, no—” you interjected, stepping in front of her with determination, positioning yourself like a shield against the oppressive council of males seated before her. “You came to us for help, and we will help you. Regardless of what one member of the council may think.” You vowed it to her.

The babe emitted another piercing wail, the small boy in his mother’s skirts crying out, pleading for her. You extended two hands towards the infant, urgency in your gesture. “May I?” you asked, your voice resolute.

The female looked down at her screaming infant, then to her son, grappling with the impossible task of soothing them both while negotiating her livelihood. Her eyes flickered with hesitation before she nodded.

The female gently supported the babe from below, her hands steadied as you reached into the swaddled sling. Your fingers wrapped around the warm, wriggling body of the tiny being, feeling its softness and fragility. It let out a series of piercing screams as you lifted it, bridging the space between you and its mother. You pulled the babe closer to your chest, your hand cradling them under their rear, while nestling their tiny head with a delicate smattering of brown curls in the crook of your elbow.

The little one continued to wail, its gummy mouth opening wide in protest as you gazed down at it, your heart instantly clenching. You began to rock them gently, feeling the weight of their small form in your arms. They couldn’t have been more than a few months old, barely able to hold their own head up as they kicked and squirmed in fear. Another wail escaped their lips, tiny arms flailing upwards as you shifted your weight from one foot for the other, soothing them with a soft, rhythmic shushing.

The mother leaned down towards her toddler, lifting him onto her hip. She held him close, whispering quiet reassurances that only a mother could offer.

As you looked down at the infant, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The cries grew softer, transforming into more discontented grunts, as you gently patted their rear through the soft, protective layers of blankets they were swaddled in.

“Shhh, little on,” you whispered. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

The babe finally opened their eyes, and you were met with brilliant blue pools peering back at you, even as tears streamed down their pudgy cheeks. “Hello sweetheart,” you cooed. “There you are. It’s all okay. It’s alright.” The little one sniffled lightly, their tiny hiccups and grunts punctuating their squirms. You leaned down, pressing your lips gently to the small babe’s forehead, your eyes closing as your inhaled the deep, intoxicating scent of the newborn. It was an enchanting aroma, fresh and new, a blend of clean linens and warm milk.

You pressed a gentle kiss into the velvety softness of their forehead, your body swaying slightly as you hummed against the babes skin. The babe, once restless and protesting with indignant squawks, now seemed to nestle into you, emitting sniffles and coos.

You placed another gentle kiss before leaning back, allowing the little one to faze up at you with wide, curious eyes.

A soft smile spread across your face as you murmured, “I know, sweet thing. I’m not mama.” You carefully lifted the babe, slightly turning them toward the female who was wiping away the tears of her toddler. “But mama’s right there; she’s okay. I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

The babe’s eyes, still shimmering with unshed tears, began to soften as their tiny hands unclenched from the tight fists they had been balled into. “Look at you,” you whispered, “you’re so beautiful. Look at your little nose and lips.” With tender care, you brought your hand up to gently wipe away to hot, shiny tears that streaked down the infant’s reddened cheeks. “I promise, we’re going to get it all figured out.” You leaned down to meet the curious gaze of the little one. The babe’s eyes were wide with wonder, fixated on your face as if drinking in every detail. You lingered there, lost in the mesmerizing, tiny expression that danced across that small face.

Then, a deep male voice broke through and your gaze shot upward to where the tall figures sat, looking down on you and the female. Your eyes met your mates—a quiet smile dancing on his lips—his eyes softening as he watched you rock back and forth, cradling the little one securely in your arms. With a warm, knowing smile, you returned his glance.

“Lady Sibel,” Eris began, pivoting to face the female who still held her toddle close against her hip, “we want nothing more than to ensure the continued prosperity of your family. And when the time comes for you to expand into the farmlands once more, we are committed to preserving that opportunity for you.”

The female shifted slightly as she swallowed. The babe let out another gentle coo, and you looked over with an affectionate smile, exaggerating your expressions slightly to coax a smile from the infant.

“That being said,” Eris continued, “we would be honored to tend the land on your behalf, to nurture its fertility. And when you feel either ready to bind yourself to another partner, or one of your children matures enough to work the fields themselves, we will restore the land to your family name.”

The female’s voice wavered as she stammered in shock, “My—my lord—that’s incredibly generous of you.”

Eris raised his hand slowly and gently shook his head. “Your husband cared for the land for generation. It would be wholly unjust for your to lose it merely because of the tragic circumstances you have had to bear. Removed that burden means your children can flourish and thrive.”

Tears welled in the females eyes, shimmering with both sorrow and relief, as a small, hopeful smile broke through as she finally spoke, “My lord, I truly cannot thank you enough for this—and I swear, I will find another companion as soon as I can.”

This time, you interjected softly, your hand resting lightly on the female’s shoulder. “There’s no need,” you said. “Take all the time to grieve the loss of your husband, and if you find someone wonderful, we will rejoice with you. But if your future unfolds in the warm embrace of your children alone, rest assured we will be just as content. It is your life to live and your path to choose.”

She nodded, her lip quivering as she turned once more to Eris. “My lord, my lady, you are too kind.”

“We are here to care for you,” Eris replied with sincerity. “It is the sole purpose of our duty—to ensure that you not only survive, but live.”

The toddler nestled his soft, curled hair into the crook of his mother’s neck, finding comfort in the warmth of her skin as she tenderly pressed a kiss into the curly brown mop atop his head.

“We will have a contract drawn up for your signature and brought to your home as soon as possible,” Eris continued, his voice steady and reassuring.

The mother nodded gently, whispering soothing words into her son's ear, “Alright my darling, it’s all okay.” With a gentle motion, she let him slip down from her arms to the floor, where the boy immediately sought refuge behind her legs once more. Eris continued to relay the intricate details of the plan as the mother approached you, arms outstretched to reclaim her infant.

Your heart ached with the impending loss of the small, perfect being, the sweetness of their scent lingering in your senses, a fragrance you wished could envelop you all day. But the child wasn’t yours to keep. They belonged to another. Reluctantly, you allowed the mother to take her baby back, and as she did, your arms felt suddenly empty, a hollowness settling deep in the pit of your stomach.

The mother offered her thanks once more before making her way toward the hall, her toddler’s small hand securely clasped in hers, the baby snugly swaddled in the sling against her chest. As the doors closed behind her, you turned to face Eris, feeling the sting of tears pricking at your eyes as you began to ascend the steps. You forced the tears back, choosing to ignore whatever derision Beron might throw your way as you resumed your place on the throne.

Eris glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his hand extending out to rest gently on your knee. He squeezed lightly, offering a touch of reassurance as you continued to hold back the tears pressing insistently at your lids. He knew. He knew how hard it was for you to let go of the babe, to watch another cradle their own child, what you longed for with every fiber of your being.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you turned to face Eris, locking eyes with him as he peeled back the raw layers of vulnerability. His gaze held a fierce tenderness, an intense longing that mirrored your own burning desire. In that fleeting, electrifying moment, amidst the imposing grandeur of the hall and the crushing weight of the responsibilities on both your shoulders, you were stripped down to your most essential selves. Two souls intertwined by a love so profound, it defied all boundaries, yearning desperately to bring forth a child to share in that love. In that instant, you were not the High Lord and his Mate, but simply a mother and father, consumed by an unyielding hunger like thousands of others across the country, aching for a tiny babe to cradle and cherish. Parents with a relentless longing for an unborn child.

Part 4: Red to Entice You

[schlatt-love-bot]

So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings - Schlatt x Reader

now listening: so hot you’re hurting my feelings - caroline polachek 0:01❍─────── 3:03 ↻ ⊲  Ⅱ  ⊳  ↺

Ping!

You groaned, picking your phone off the vanity in front of you to see who was bothering you now…it was a photo of Schlatt and his buddies in LA he posted to his close friend's story on Instagram. He had been out there for the last few days, filming content with his creator friends, leaving you alone, just you and your thoughts, in New York. 

You two weren’t anything official, just two good friends who met at a bar one night, hit it off, and stuck around one another. Slowly, over time, you had grown to have stronger feelings for him than you thought was ever possible—his good looks coupled with his sharp personality drew you in, and once you realized how soft and sweet he could be behind closed doors, your fate was sealed. He, however, never showed a growing interest in you, whenever he would text and ask you to come over, he may have made one or two comments about how nice you looked, but it was nothing more than friendly conversation, which annoyed the hell out of you. You were planning on bringing it up to him, but he dropped a bomb on you that he was leaving New York for almost a month.

“Wait, what?” You said, not quite sure you were hearing him right…the Schlatt you knew would never travel for that long.

“Yeah, just so happened I could connect a flight from L.A. to Kyoto, so after my two weeks of filming in L.A., I decided to take a flight over to Japan. I always take a trip over there, at least once or twice a year.” He said with a smile, acting as if these plans were straightforward and simple to understand. You blinked at him, somewhat in disbelief. 

“And you’re staying in Japan for how long?”

“Haven’t decided yet…probably 2 or 3 weeks? Maybe more.”

“What do you mean you haven’t decided?” You asked, your voice growing in volume…how could he leave you here for so long? He shrugged before replying.

“I dunno…figured I’d book a flight home when I’m out there, when it feels right to come home. It’s not like I can’t do my job in Japan, you know.” He said with a dry laugh, looking at your shocked expression rather confused… “Why?” 

You sighed, dropping your head slightly.

“No reason, Schlatt. Just curious. Hope you enjoy yourself, for most people those kinds of trips are once in a lifetime!” You said, putting on a fake smile, half listening as he continued to talk, going over his itinerary for both of his trips, who he’d be with, why he was going…it didn’t matter to you. You were too busy being caught up in your feelings for him, wondering how you were going to survive that long without him in New York. 

Now, here you were, preparing yourself for a dreaded night out with people you hadn’t talked to since high school, to a crowded bar or something in the city that you didn’t even like. And there he was, enjoying himself and his company in Los Angeles, without you. He probably didn’t even notice your absence, or the fact that you weren’t there, and were instead enjoying yourself in New York without him. You let out a groan, sending his story a quick like before putting your phone down, the knot in your stomach growing ever so slightly. 

You couldn’t help yourself from feeling a bittersweet sense of pride, seeing Schlatt go out and do these things you know he’s been wanting to do and achieve was so fulfilling, even for you as a support for him. The other side of the blade, though, was the fact that the bigger and the more involved he got in this lifestyle, the increased amount of time he’d be away from you. You wanted him to soar, reach the levels of success he truly deserved for how much time and effort he was putting into his various channels and business ventures, but your heart felt empty every time he had to leave. 

He had never left for so long before in the time that you knew him. He’d taken the week-long trip to Los Angeles or back to Austin every once in a while over the last year that you knew him, and your heart was just learning how to handle that. Going from simple weeks of distant contact to fully thrown into over a month without him…it nearly sent your body into shock. You spent the first whole week he was gone contemplating whether or not you’d look clingy by texting him once a day to check in and see how his trip was going—spoiler alert, you got too paranoid and only texted him twice, though, he did FaceTime you after you texted, because he thought it was easier to tell you of all his daily adventures over a call rather than sit there and type it all out. 

Placing your phone down, you looked back into your vanity mirror…since when did you look so horrible? The bags under your eyes had more flight miles racked up than you did, and the frown lines in between your brows were more prominent than ever. Rubbing your hands over your face, you decided to say fuck it, get yourself all dolled up, and to try your hardest to have a good night out. Was it going to be hard to get your mind to stop traveling to thoughts of Schlatt? Absolutely. However…were you willing to try and let go for once to have some well-needed fun? Absolutely! Your mind was made—you picked up one of your makeup brushes and began to go to work, doing whatever it would take for you to look relatively presentable and like you were at least getting the proper sleep you needed. 

After what felt like forever, you finally finished putting yourself together and met up with your friends in the city. It was some overcrowded, musty night club in the Lower East Side that reeked of Axe and cigarettes, the fog inside making you practically choke every so often. You tried to be involved with the group you came with, downing drinks and shots left and right, going out on the overly crowded dance floor…nothing could take your mind off of Schlatt. One of the girls with your group, Emma, noticed your silence and approached you, concern in her eyes. 

“(Y/N)...what’s going on? You love these outings!” She screamed over the blaring DJ who wasn’t reading the room–no one wanted to listen to swing jazz, they were in the mood for party anthems. You recognized Emma…one of the girls who used to frequent the same parties when you were in high school, not talking much outside of them, but you do remember her as being one of the only girls willing to hold your hair back when you were pulling trig in the bushes to keep rallying. Smiling softly at her, you shrugged. 

“I’m alright…just distracted, I guess. Need more shots I think.” She winced at your words, not liking that plan…apparently she also remembered having to hold your hair back a few times.

“I know we’re not close or whatever, but if you need an open ear, I’m your girl!” She said, giggling, as she nodded towards you. Humming, you contemplated it…if you were sober, there was no way in hell you were telling his random girl what was going on with you and Schlatt, especially all the embarrassing details that didn’t hide just how one sided this was. In your drunken state, though, you couldn’t hold back, needing a person to just be a listening ear to all of your woes, your words spilling out of your mouth like vomit. Emma, however, was engaged, one of her favorite pastimes being listening to other people’s troubles and figuring out solutions (that probably wouldn’t work most of the time). 

“Damn, that’s a fucking predicament.” She said with a huff, leaning in towards you. You nodded, a groan escaping your lips. 

“It just sucks! He’s so hot, and he keeps posting these photos to his story with all of his friends out in L.A….it’s like he’s taunting me with his looks! The fact that I can’t see him with my own two eyes right now…it’s driving me crazy!” 

“Woah…you’re in a lot deeper than I thought…” She whispered, her eyes scanning the nightclub as she thought, her eyes making their way back to you widened…she had an idea. 

“I got it! Let’s go to the bathroom…need to make you hotter!” She said, grabbing your hand as she pulled you into the nearest restroom in a panic. Once inside, she adjusted your outfit so your best features were on display, moving to fix your makeup next to make sure you didn’t look like you were too miserable all night long. 

“Perfect…let’s find everyone else!” She squealed, clapping her hands together, proud of her execution…she didn’t do too terribly—looking in the mirror, you were half impressed with just how good you actually looked. She grabbed your hand, dragging you back out to the dancefloor, finding some of the people you had come with, gathering them around. 

“Give me your phone.” She whispered to you, holding out her hand. 

“What?”

“What are you deaf? I said give me your phone! Trust me!” She gave you pleading eyes, and you were drunk enough that you didn’t care as much. You reluctantly gave her your phone, unlocking it. She opened Instagram, sliding over to create a story, calling everyone around. She made sure you were towards the front, and most of your body was in view of the camera. As she made sure everyone was in frame, she looked at you with a soft smile.

“Make it look like you’re enjoying yourself, at least, okay?” She said softly, before looking at everyone else, “Okay…smile!” 

The group made their best pose as she snapped a photo, handing you your phone back. You were relatively impressed, it actually looked like you were enjoying yourself on a night out. Turning to her, you showed her an impressed smile. 

“Damn, Emma…that’s actually really good. Should I post it as is?” She hummed, thinking with a smile. 

“Put an emoji on it…something stupid like the dancing lady, or like a disco ball or something! Pair it with a heart or something similar…he’ll slide up in no time.” 

You looked at her dumbfounded. 

“What? Seriously? A disco ball and a heart? That will do?” She smirked, nodding her head. 

“Trust me…men are simple creatures. If he doesn’t swipe up, then…something’s up.” You sighed, turning back to your phone, scrolling through the emojis. Typing out a disco ball and a light blue heart, your finger hovered over the ‘post stories’ button before she stopped you. 

“Wait! Is he in your close friend's story?” She asked, grabbing your arm almost as if she was stopping you from making a mistake. You nodded, confused at what she was on about. 

“Post it there. He’ll be more likely to reply if he notices it’s a close friend’s story! The idea of being in a private circle is alluring, he’ll want to reply!” She sounded confident, and that’s all you needed in the moment. Pressing send, you sighed, looking up at her. 

“Now I need some liquor…” She smiled, nodding, dragging you to the bar for your 5th, maybe 6th shot of the night. 

On the other side of the country, Schlatt’s phone buzzed. He was in the middle of wrapping up a filming session with his friends Charlie and Ted, so he ignored the buzzing. The filming session went on for what felt like another few hours, and in the back of his mind, Schlatt couldn’t help himself from thinking of you. 

He saw you viewed his close friends story, a simple picture of him and his two friends out to lunch together earlier….but you didn’t text him to see how his day was going, or if he was readying himself for the Japan leg of his trip, since he knew you’d remember that he was heading to LAX to go to Kyoto tomorrow.

You always remembered the little things—it was one of the things Schlatt admired about you. One time, in a late night discussion, he had mentioned his love of a certain album, and how he stopped listening to a particular artist because it made him depressed if he listened too much. The next time Schlatt came to your place, he noticed the album he had mentioned by name was now on display by your record player stand, and when you shuffle your playlist for him, the songs he had mentioned by a certain artist were now gone, disappeared. He didn’t mention those things with hopes you would change the things you did around him—he was simply opening himself up to you— but you still remembered the things he said, and made sure he was comfortable and cared for when he was around you. He could never forget the way you made him feel inside, and this trip was slowly killing his spirit, despite the amount of fun he was having with his friends exploring places and making content. Everyday was a fight within him to not send you too many text messages, as he didn’t want to seem like he was only ever thinking about you…even though, as of late, that had become the truth. 

Ted picked up on how quiet he had gone towards the end of filming, a part of him assuming Schlatt had just hit his social wall, and that content creation had to end for the day, but another part of him was sure that there was something more to the look behind Schlatt’s eyes. He quietly approached him, clearing his throat. 

“Hey, man…everything alright? You’re quiet.” Schlatt huffed, looking slightly up at him as he nodded.

“Yeah, ‘m alright. Just thinkin’...” He said, his voice trailed off. Ted stood, raising an eyebrow at Schlatt as he watched him, his silence speaking for itself—if you want to talk, I’m here to listen. Schlatt sighed, leaning back on the couch…maybe Ted would have some words of advice. 

Schlatt rambled and ranted on for what felt like only a few minutes, but was probably more like an hour or two, as Ted, and eventually Charlie, too, sat in silence, taking it all in. 

“Sounds like you like them, man.” Ted said nonchalantly, leaning back in his armchair. Charlie nodded, silently agreeing, causing Schlatt to huff, rolling his eyes. 

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock…I don’t know what the fuck t’do ‘bout it, though.” Ted and Charlie shared a look, before looking back at him. 

“Just tell them, man.” Schlatt’s eyes widened at Ted’s indifferent response. 

“What?” 

“You heard me…just tell them!”

“No?”

“Why?” Charlie asked sincerely, causing Schlatt to let out yet another groan, sliding down in his position on the couch, his hands covering his face. 

“It’s…it’s not that simple.” The two other men in the room lightly laughed, not understanding Schlatt’s dilemma. 

“I’m not sure if we’re even on the same page…yeah, they remember every little thing about me, and goes out of their way to make sure I’m happy…but what if they’re doing that as a friend!” The two other men exchanged another look, before bursting out into laughter at Schlatt’s expense, leaving him somewhat stunned and confused. 

“Dude, you’re a lost cause. Just text them! Say something!” Ted said, signalling for him to check his phone. He sighed…at this point, he supposed he had nothing to lose—worst comes to worst, you wouldn’t reply, and he could forget about it all by spending as much time in Japan as possible without cutting into his work flow. Opening his phone, he saw two Instagram notifications…you had double posted to your Instagram story. He hummed…that wasn’t normal for you. Upon opening the first story, he was left speechless at the photo—you looked as stunning as ever, and he couldn’t peel his eyes off of you. He didn’t take note of the stupid (cute) emojis you had put on the post, or the other people you were with…his sole focus was on you. He went to send the story a like, but instead tapped forward. He saw you singing along to something, turning up the volume on your story…

“I’m going back to 505! If it’s a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive!” You drunkenly belted with one of your friends…his breath hitched in the back of his throat. 

“Huh…they’re an Arctic Monkeys fan, huh?” Ted said, leaning over Schlatt’s shoulder, looking at your story. Charlie peered over too, nodding.

“Damn, man…I see why you like her.” 

All their comments were like static white noise in the back of his mind, nothing else mattered to him in the moment.

“505…that’s our song.” He said softly, watching as the story moved forward to the next one in the carousel. You were telling him you were thinking of him without even saying it. 

Back in the Lower East Side, Emma and yourself were tucked in a back corner, way too many Long Islands deep, stalking your story posts like hunters watching their prey. 505 still played on in the background behind you, your stomach in knots at the sound of the lyrics.

“Woah…who is this?” You asked, looking up at Schlatt as a song played lightly in the background. He hummed, looking up from his phone at you.

“It’s an Arctic Monkeys song…have you never heard of them?” 

“Huh…I don’t think I have.” Schlatts eyes widened at your comment, leaning forward in his seat. 

“What?” 

“...what?” You asked innocently, not aware it was such a bad thing. 

“Oh, you’re in for a real treat. This is 505…after this, we’re listening to their best album, Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino.” He replied, quickly queuing up the music on his phone…you laughed, watching him in admiration. 

“This song…it’s good. I like it a lot.” He gave you a warm smile, nodding.

From that moment on, every time you two hung out together, 505 played at some given time, deeming it your song. 

You slid up on your recent post, the one Emma was sure Schlatt would reply to…you gasped. Emma’s attention was brought back to you. 

“What?!?” 

“...he saw it.” She smiled wide, her eyes as large as saucers. She was excited for you already, her mind racing at all the possibilities he could've slid up with.

“Oh my god! What did he say?” 

You slumped back against the wall, the seconds feeling like hours as they passed. Emma’s face fell as she put down her drink on the windowsill next to you, gently grabbing your shoulders. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

“Oh my god…what did he say?”

“...nothing. He said nothing.”

[777rare]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT.9

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

Also, this post is only for those who are 18 and above.

In Tarot, the Capricorn zodiac rules 'The Devil' card. 'The Devil' in tarot represents obsession, not being able to break from the chains of unhealthy addictions like sex, one's Ego being challenged, lust, losing control of the mind, etc.

In astrology, if you have the planets Mars and/or Moon in this sign, sex with you can be extremely addicting for your sexual partner. Once they get a taste of you in the bedroom, they lose control of themselves. They'll have the sex on their mind 24/7. They will try everything to stop it from distracting them by shifting their focus on other things but they will fail miserably.

They'll crave for more and more. Your sex will blow up the sexual appetite your partner has towards you like insane! Your partner will be in chains for your love (usually you express your deepest passion towards your partner through sex). Oh, and you can be into sex that involves handcuffs, blindfolds, chains, ropes, tying, etc.

You love and crave the kind of sex that's devotional, soul bonding and deeply intertwining. You also have an amazing level of sexual appetite and sexual stamina where you wish to have sex till complete exhaustion like fainting.

Steamy sex is what Capricorn Mars and/or Moon can fulfill undoubtedly. Since Saturn is the ruler of this sign, you are not open about this part of yourselves and prefer reserving it only for your commited partner or that one person who you choose.

Also...

If Individual A has Capricorn Moon and individual B has Capricorn Mars, the sex between them is going to be so euphoric and a complete ecstasy. Sex between these two individuals will be insanely passionate, very steamy and deeply bonding. Both of them will instantly be very sexually drawn to eachother and they eventually cannot keep their hands off of eachother.

They have this urge to touch eachother and feel eachother. The slightest touch of their skin against eachother heats them both up instantly and at the beginning they often hide it internally but as the connection deepens, they show it to eachother.

The sexual chemistry is just french kiss!🤌😮‍💨 Both the individuals will be extremely addicted after first tasting eachother and having sex with eachother. Sex deeply connects these two individuals and they are very sexually compatible.

Uranus is a very destructive planet. It destroys outdated stuff for new and effective ones. It also rules gadgets, technology and advancement. So, the degree of your uranus matters a lot cuz it is at that age where your outdated thinking or just old ways of thinking, mannerisms, routines, everything gets destroyed and you become a brand new 'YOU'.

You can also get new gadgets or involve in a lot of technology at that age and during that year. You may try new things that you've never tried before and were afraid of trying, things you didn't expect you would do one day.

You will always have intense connections, that of a soul level, a magnetic obsessive kind with the person who inner planets (Sun/Moon/Mercury/Venus/Mars) are in the same sign as your 8th house [and Vice Versa]. It's the one with scary familiarity and depth but also a place where you can open up your souls to eachother.

This can even be an eternal bond. If Mars is the planet (alone or among the other inner planets) then it's likely to be a deep sexual bond if you are lovers (which definitely you are, because scorpio and the 8th house is nowhere near superficial and flaky connections).

Why do women having their Lilith aspect Sun, Moon, Ascendant and/or Midheaven look so damn attractive in black clothing? It just enhances this shadow part of themselves in their aura and makes them look extremely tantalizing in the colour black.

examples:

FOR A FEMALE:

BILLIE EILISH

Billie eilish has her h21, h22 and h13 Lilith in 12th house with her h21 Lilith aspecting the ascendant and her h13 Lilith aspecting her moon.

The one reason she looks so beautiful in feminine and masculine clothes, both, are probably because her Lilith sat in a house of duality..there's both a male and female fish in the pisces zodiac and this being the house of that zodiac further impacts how she appears in clothing of both the male and female gender. Either way she looks stunning in anything she wears.

For men, it's quite different actually.

FOR MALES:

JOHNNY DEPP

Johnny Depp has his h13, h21 and h22 Lilith in the 4rth house which explains the toxic childhood and how toxic his mother was to him but anyways, his h21 Lilith is aspecting his Moon and his h22 Lilith is aspecting his ascendant.

Now in a man's chart, Lilith works pretty differently. Lilith in a man's chart can show the kind of woman the man is intimidated by. So usually in a man's chart, when Lilith is in prominence, I've noticed how soft and delicate they appear on the outside.

They don't have this kind of like aggressive seductiveness look to them. They have this graceful aura that captivates people, sweeping them off their feet. Their seductive looks are soft and graceful.

plus, Johnny Depp has his Liliths in scorpio which enhances these naturally alluring qualities in him.

SHAWN MENDES

Another example I can give you for the effects of a man's Lilith being prominent is Shawn Mendes.

He has his h13 Lilith aspecting his Moon and his h22 Lilith aspecting both his sun and moon.

• I have also noticed how men having prominent Lilith looks very much like a momma's boy when they're younger but as they grow older they begin to be more attractive in a bad boy way. They look like a bad boy who your mama tells you to be safe from😂.

Well, that's all for today dear readers..i really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed making it.☺️

Have a good day and see you on the next one! I have a very interesting post coming up which I'm sure you all will love too! Stay tuned! 💖

[angelsdean]

Both Heaven and Hell use human souls as currency and power. Heaven traps human souls in little personal dream-prisons so they remain content and complacent (like Michael did to Dean in his mind) so Heaven can then harness their soul power to "keep the lights on" in Heaven's offices and for angels to derive their power from.

Angel grace production is dependent on an angel's connection to the Heavenly Host. When they are cut off their grace becomes less potent and reproduction diminishes. When they are within the fold of Heaven, they are at full power. Hence why Cas's powers continue to diminish over time, even after his grace is "restored."

Later seasons muddles this lore when Naomi suggests that the diminished number of angels is the reason Heaven is barely keeping the lights on. A possible theory to bridge the gap between these varying lores, is that angels are a necessary conduit to "process" the raw soul energy into energy that can be used for maintaining Heaven. So, the more angels there are in Heaven, the more soul-energy that can be processed and converted into "grace" and other Heaven-supporting power. Now that there are few angels left, they can't keep up with the energy demands of Heaven. They have all those souls in cages, ready for processing, but not enough angels to do the processing.

Hell, on the other hand, uses human souls to create workers to continue to fuel Hell and propagate Hell's missions on Earth. Souls go to Hell to be tortured and transformed into demons. Hell doesn't have to worry about diminishing numbers because they can always make more demons. Making more demons is easy! It's a renewable resource. Unlike angels, which seems to be largely finite. (More angels could be theoretically created, as we see Jack attempt to do under Duma's guidance, but its methods are dubious and results unstable).

But Hell? Hell uses demons to make more demons. Both through the torture of souls and through the use of deals. Deals are how they draw in new meat. It's kind of MLM vibes. Demon mentors other demons. Those demons go out and make "sales" and draw in new souls to become demons. There are quotas. Analytics. Reports and performance reviews.

And Hell originated with Lucifer -- angel. Humans (souls) have always been a commodity to angels. The whole reason for the apocalypse WAS to cause death and destruction. The so-called "paradise" would be for the angels. Think of all the souls they could reap in the fallout of Lucifer and Michael's battle? All that power ripe for the taking?

It's also why Cas goes for the Purgatory souls when he needs power to defeat Raphael (many monsters were once human, so their souls function similarly). And it's why a soul-bomb could potentially kill a cosmic being like Amara (concentrated energy like that would be nuke-levels). It's why both Heaven and Hell hate hunters like the Winchesters for meddling and messing with their plans and not following so-called "fate", for choosing free will, thwarting apocalypses, saving those human souls from deaths where they could have become commodities for Heaven and Hell.

Heaven and Hell, while seemingly opposites, work in-tandem to keep humans on Earth subjugated. Heaven just has better "PR" as they say. But angels are not "the Good Guys" to Hell's "Bad Guys." And they both function similarly when it comes to their use of human souls.

[sunseed-fandump]

OH MY GOD WIZARD MY BABY BOYYY 😭😭😭

why couldnt that town just listen to his side??? I mean- he DID save them from all getting eaten! If the reaper had left and reported back to the other minions, they wouldn't have stopped until NONE of them were safe! Wizard did what he had to so he could save himself and the town- how could he have known there would be a little collateral?? (Even if some cookies were crumbled.. its better than ALL of them right..?)

Although this does make me wonder.. do gingerbrave and wild strawberry know about all this? If so- what were their reactions to learning about it? And.. does alchemist cookie regret what she did that day? Or does she stand by her decision to cast out her best friend?

Sorry for the long ask- that story just lit a flame under me (pun intended) and i had to get my thoughts and questions out

Well, it was a matter of caution for them. Users of Dark Magic aren't exactly known for their benevolence, and Wizard was already seeming a bit unhinged in that moment. Would you rather risk letting him go and him going full on psycho at a later date? Or play it safe and detain him and/or kick him out? They were already in the middle of an emergency situation, there wasn't much time to dwaddle on technicalities.

Dark Magic always comes at a price. And the town didn't want to be the ones to pay it.

As for Gingerbrave and Strawberry, yes they are aware of Wizard's previous incident. Actually, it was the rumors being spread about him that caused Gingerbrave to seek him out in the first place! He figured someone that destructive could absolutely help bust him out of the castle. Meanwhile, Wild Strawberry thinks the level of chaos was decent "for a rookie". Don't forget, she time-hopped quite a bit and caused a fair share of her own destruction! So something like destroying a town doesn't really bother her.

And in the case of Alchemist? Well... She says she doesn't regret it, but Vampire (who got out fine btw. he turned into a bat and was small enough to remain safe) can tell the whole thing had an effect on her. They live in Parfaedia in this AU, surrounded by all sorts of different magic-users, but Alchemist hasn't been able to make a connection like Wizard ever since. It's why he kept the picture. He knows she misses him, but she's refusing to admit it.

(When the wanted posters go up, he can't help but get concerned.)

[sweetformommy]

If this happened to me my brain would turn into a puddle. Even just hugs from behind have always been my weakness. Ugh 😩 I crave this level of connection constantly

I hug him from behind and suck/lick/kiss his neck and make him look at himself in the mirror while I tell him how pretty he looks like while my hands start to roam his body teasing him.

[moonzzip]

spill the tea | kwon jiyong

a/n – so, I wrote this during class, I couldn't pay attention, I was thinking too much about jiyong. I don't know if I'll do another part, it depends on your reaction, initially, I don't plan on doing pt.2, I'm enjoying doing a bit of angst so much, i don't understand... again, I just wrote what came to my head, the english is still kind of... bad, but I hope you like it!

everything has been lightly reviewed, please let me know of any grammar error/incorrect word!

summary: jiyong is anxious, very nervous about appearing on stage again in front of so many people, but you appear.

pairing: jiyong x gn!reader

warnings: a fair amount of self-deprecation, abusive work, mentions of anxiety, reader has confidence issues, angst, fluff

lowercase letters, word count: 1,1k (again)

spinning the rings on his fingers, jiyong’s palms sweat, and he unconsciously wipes them on his light pink pants. looking around absentmindedly, his thoughts race a mile a minute, and he exhales hurriedly.

hearing two soft knocks on the door, he looks at it, a bit confused.

“jiyong-nim?” you whisper, peeking in with only half of your face visible, your body still outside.

the man nods, giving you permission to enter. you smile softly and finally step inside.

“excuse me…” your voice is gentle, barely above a whisper, not wanting to be a bother. “since i know you like tea, i decided to make some and bring it to you.”

in your hand, you hold a metallic thermal bottle, and in the other, a small, delicate package of chocolate cookies you had baked just a few hours ago.

you can’t help but wonder how he must be feeling, returning to the stage after so many years. being part of his personal staff, you and the team always communicate with him directly.

well… not you. the others.

you never had the courage—nor the opportunity, really. not for lack of trying, but because of someone specific.

of course, the great g-dragon would have a highly qualified team of professionals. but you never felt like one of them, and that person made sure to remind you of your “proper place.” the moment jiyong turned his back, all of her frustrations were dumped onto you. maybe you were hired as a verbal punching bag for the “blessed being” without realizing it. it made you wonder if you had remembered to read the fine print.

she didn’t even bother to call you by your name—always using other names, but never yours.

of course, you had thought about reporting it, but someone as insignificant as you in this industry, compared to her—who is beloved and has more connections than you could count—who’s to say she wouldn’t send someone to get rid of you while you’re in the bathroom? you never know. you know they would never fire her. you losing your job would be much easier than any close employee of jiyong’s facing consequences.

you? a new hire? who gets stepped on by senior staff? reporting her and expecting her to be fired for abuse of power and verbal harassment—if that’s even considered a crime? never. only in your dreams.

you’ve always known that keeping quiet avoids unnecessary arguments, even if you constantly bite your tongue to hold back a sharp reply. you need this job to survive. the salary is too good, and you think you can endure a certain level of mistreatment. at the end of the day, you’re working for g-dragon.

kwon jiyong.

so, you put up with a little more.

you’ve always been someone who minds their own business, who hates being a burden, who puts effort and dedication into everything you do. that’s what got you here, and you won’t let nerves over trivial things get the best of you.

sometimes, you stop and wonder if it’s worth tolerating such ridiculous treatment. but then you remind yourself—you’re on your own. you handle things as best as you can with what you have.

just you and yourself.

you don’t remember having any true friendships you’d take with you for life. maybe some colleagues, but nothing like “i need a shoulder to lean on, can i talk to you?”

you don’t dwell on it. you don’t even seek that kind of connection anymore—you gave up long ago.

you care too much about what others think of you. you like leaving a good impression—being seen as reliable, always prepared, capable of doing whatever is asked of you.

but you also let people step on you—on your pride, almost on you, literally.

when did that become “okay”?

you have no idea. it feels like it’s always been this way. you’re invisible. never invited to anything. you watch others having fun, calling each other out for drinks, and you can’t even picture yourself in a situation like that.

honestly?

you silence your thoughts for now.

you hand him the tea and cookies, and he stands up, bowing politely, ever so charming. a small smile grace his beautiful face, bringing a subtle glow of admiration to your own, soon he sits down again.

“i tried making passion fruit tea with pomegranate… passion fruit helps with stress and mood, pomegranate helps with the throat in case of hoarseness or pain, and also—”

jiyong watches you ramble (your voice still soft and low, almost a whisper), his lips forming a small pout, eyes slightly wide, eyebrows subtly raised. one hand rests on his chin, legs crossed, elbow propped up.

for the first time since arriving here, he finds himself distracted, momentarily forgetting his nerves and anxiety.

thinking back, he realizes he has never interacted with you directly.

of course, he’s seen you around—always busy, whether carrying heavy boxes, taking notes from a distance, staying late to fix a loose button or sequin on his outfit, bringing drinks, coffee, and snacks for everyone (never personally handing them to him), and countless other tasks that he’s almost certain aren’t your responsibility.

he’s never seen you with anyone. a friend, or something like that.

not that he had noticed before.

but, you know, when people are close, it’s something you can feel.

jiyong’s thoughts (just like your rambling) are abruptly interrupted by the loud, sudden swing of the dressing room door.

both of your heads snap toward the sound.

“jiyo-ssi!! you’re up next, it’s packed today, hurry up!”

ah, it’s her. the very person who used you as her personal punching bag.

without so much as a polite greeting, she shoves you aside and grabs jiyong’s arm.

still surprised, he simply looks ahead as he’s dragged away in a rush.

you just stare down at your hands, now clasped together in front of you, until—

“___?”

startled, you look up—and see g-d smiling at you.

in your eyes, he glows.

“thank you so much. i feel a lot better now.”

his voice, deep yet gentle, carries the words, and suddenly, the world seems more colorful as you both look directly at each other.

have you ever noticed how beautiful his eyes are?

and then, the door closes.

you stay there, frozen, until your legs weaken, and you crouch down, placing a hand over your racing heart, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“…but you didn’t even drink the tea…” you murmur, embarrassed.

a/n – thanks for the positive reactions on 'thinkin' bout you'! I'm glad you liked it, it just makes me want to write more. this time I heard JK's 'still with you', it brought up a lot of feelings and I ended up pouring it all out in the reader's self-deprecating parts. Sorry not sorry. sorry again for my english, feel free to correct me kindly!

[cannibal-walleye]

Skizzpulse band au? Skizzpulse band au! SKIZZPULSE BAND AUU!! SKIZZPULSE BAND AU!! BAND AU BAND AU BAND AU- I scream as I get dragged back to bed

Uh, hi!! I would, LOVE to see more of this lol. Even if you don't have time to actually write/draw for it, I will take literally anything. I cherish any drop of content like crumbs from those delicious sounding apology pastries. If you don't mind, I would specifically love a bit more on skizz & impulses first meeting, have they competed in any band wars? Do they have a lot a mutual friends? And they stupider here than tsots or do they have some common sense? Or just the Heart Fondation! Oh also! What about bdubs and etho? They have a lot of ties (ha. Get it? Ties) to those two! Itd be interesting to see if they have a place in this au.

I will genuinely take anything lol. Your writing FUELS me, and your art is always so pleasing to look at it calms me down?? I don't really know how to explain it. But your doing gods work/vvsilly

BAND AUUUUUUUU

I have LOTS of thoughts on their first meeting--but you don't get to see that yet ;) I have a bunch of art drawn (ft. the most adorable Impulse ever) and all that's left is to write a little blorb of how it went down, which I'll probably do sometime tomorrow :D (I'm very very excited for this lol)

They do have mutual friends, since Skizz tends to know EVERYBODY, but Impulse is a bit of a recluse apart from when Gem and Scott make him get out of the house, so he hasn't met Skizz yet. Skizz happens to have never interacted directly with Gem or Scott either, but they've all heard of each other. As for mutual connections, Impulse does know Tango (who is part of Heart Foundation, obviously), and probably some others, but that's it for important connections I can come up with off the top of my head!

As for stupid levels, these guys are certified idiots, rest assured. However, this one isn't exactly a slow burn! I'd say more, but you'll see soon enough... >:)

Bdubs, I don't have any particular plans for. I'm still brainstorming a lot of the hermits n such. Etho knows everyone, tho (add him to mutual friends list ig), and in particular, the Roomies exist in this AU like they did in secret life, because I love them dearly <3 Other than that, he's a college student, studying tech of some sort, and lives with Cleo and Grian :) (and potentially Bdubs, if I get around to giving him a backstory. Honestly if you have ideas, feel free to share) He occasionally helps out with the sound tech for the Heart Foundation, but it's rare.

And thank you so much! I'm thrilled everyone's liking my silly lil band au thus far, I've kinda hyperfixated on it these past few days lmao. My wrist actually hurts from drawing so much rip, I need to get a proper stand for my tablet so I'm not hunched over the desk like a shrimp. But yeah! I have lots more art and quite a bit of writing I wanna do :D idk how far this'll go, since it's not meant to be serious or anything, but it's a fun experiment

Okie have good day

[loveamongdragons]

The Life Changing Road Trips are truly very interesting when compared to one another because one of them sticks out like a sore thumb - the one with Aang.

The thing is that both with Sokka and Katara, the trips focused on their respective journeys and relationships as characters. They were deeply personal, and important to something at the core of the characters. They also focused on their relationships with Zuko, who put their needs and wants first during those trips.

In both cases, they emerge from the experience with a deeper understanding and more trust for each other.

And then there is Aang. To be fair, this Life Changing Road Trip isn't even about Aang, although it is kind of framed like that (hence Toph feeling left out). It's more so about Zuko's journey and his understanding of true firebending. Aang is basically just there because he needs a teacher. And for most of the episode they don't even exhibit a good working relationship (with Zuko being annoyed by Aang's childishness, for example).

You see what I mean?

There could have been an episode where Zuko and Aang connected on a more personal level, but there wasn't. Instead, their trip was in large part very utilitarian - Zuko needed to learn something to be useful so that Aang would get something he didn't have yet. And this unfortunately fits the relationship quality that Aang has with the rest of the Gaang too. Like, what are his deep feelings towards Toph? Towards Sokka? Don't even get me started on Kataang.

[starry-tight]

My actual experience making this tumblr, ngl.

Cis people and other trans people of all demographics: ok so you're a man so you need to take care f all this stuff but also! You're the only person living here who will regularly do chores so you get to be the dishes and cooking person. Ngl I fully used weaponized incompetence about the cooking, at least with the cis people. I know how to cook but I cook for ME not 6 other people living in my goddamn apartment.

Do you know how many cis male friends i thought I had? Only for them to turn "hanging out with the homies" into "we're going to fuck". All of them met me as a dumpy guy who dresses like a homeless person. I have had men gang up on me

I have had hangouts turn into horrific experiences because of the fact that I have boobs. I had a cis gay friend that would literally grab me by the tit and make jokes about yanking them off.

It's hard to make friends with cis women as well. My first gf when I was 13 sexuality assaulted me because "you're supposed to be a boy so you're supposed to want to do this more, and i really want to do it".

if I don't correct women on their assumptions that I'm a girl as soon as I met them, and i tell them later, they look at me like I've betrayed them and I get cycled out of the friend group very quickly. If I do tell them immediately, I just never get included.

My last roommate would get pissy when I didn't deep clean fucking everything in the house. Would actively say shit about my transness and constantly talked about her transness was more valid. I have been out and non passing for 11 years. I have been struggling and poor and she got pissy at me for having bigger boobs than her even tho she added a pill and grew more pretty quickly. She witnessed me consistently misgendered in public even while binding because a binder doesn't completely flatten g cups. She got pissy at me any time i had a period.

I have PMDD and she decided that was her fucking problem somehow? And made me feel shittier for having a specifically hormone related disorder that connects to my periods.

She knew i was intersex and knew the reason I HAD to take a break from T (I need closer monitoring, I can't afford the testing rn to find out what specific thing I have, but my t levels got WAY too high WAY too fast at a low dose. 1300 at 3 months on like a .3 dose. and my body was suffering.) Honestly she's not the worst about it, just the most recent. Hurt my feelings specifically. Direct example of me experiencing misogyny despite my gender, from another trans person.

Had a dude come over and when I was talking about my life growing up on a rural farm, he directly said stuff about 4wheelers and dirt bikes, and then said "I guess only guys would know". This man knew, I was out to him, and directly said this in my own house. The reason I know nothing about 4 wheelers n shit is because I grew up on 1000$ a month for 3 people, not because I was born with a vag, thanks tho!

I have recently lost a lot of weight because of medical issues. When I was 240ish, I was treated so much more shitty as a trans man. Especially by other skinnier, richer trans men. Binding worked even less then. I had more obvious hips. Even though I was actively on T, my body never really redistributed fat or grew obvious facial hair. I've got a deep voice and that's about it. I have never actually in my life experienced an ounce of male privilege.

When i went to the gyno for an IUD (btw it fell out after 4 months and lodged in my cervix, if i had left it longer/ignored the pain it would have needed surgery) during that time there was a single nurse who would quietly say my chosen name when then other nurses couldn't hear her. She made my year.

I was forcibly impregnated at 17. And became that man's and all his roommates and friends basic maid for 3 years. Even though he wanted me to dress feminine i would still embarrass him by shouting my maleness. I got passed around. I got physically hurt. But I never got treated like a man. That whole period is the main reason I can't use my relatively unisex deadname/nickname at all. Or the first name i chose after.

Me after I first went from a community where 'trans men are girl brained which is why they are inferior to us real trans people, so be a good crossdresser and do most of the chores. Its not our fault we were never taught how, while you were forced into doing it since you could walk'

To the very progressive:

'Trans men are the meniest most privileged meniest men of all malekind and misogyny is a swear word to them, true men of trans manness don't acknowledge misogyny at all and if you do you're a transtrend- i mean faker- I mean misogynist- I MEAN HEFAB USING HIS ASAB TO GET SYMPATHY. NO THERE IS NO GRACE for not understanding all the correct terminology you tme facist! YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER. EDUCATE YOURSELF USING THESE ENGLISH BOOKS YOU CAN'T REALLY READ'

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Hiii I was wondering if town kook ford is aware that he is no longer...mentally stable (idk how to phrase it💀) since u said he retaught himself to speak to the best of his ability again so he was aware he struggled with talking but does he know why? Does he know that project mayhem failed and if so has he attempted to try and fix himself in the past and just gave up? Since he was able to recognise his speech was not coherent enough, does he sometimes form a logical thought when talking on his telephone that it is impossible for him to be hearing someone and he stops and thinks....hold up- something not right here💀💀

Hello, hello! Yes, Ford is fully aware that his mental state is less than stable, but whether or not he knows why really depends.

To a subconscious level, he very much knows that something must have gone wrong in the past for him to behave, think, and speak differently than the other people in town. He knows that the way he is now isn't his "normal" state, so to speak. But he just can't seem to piece together the full story of what happened to him. Most of the time, he would only remember chunks of it, but not have the rest. Sometimes, he would be able to remember everything; Bill; the portal; project Mentem; Fiddleford... But even those moments of lucidity would be momentary, and his thoughts would be slipping through his fingers like sand again.

The thing with Ford is that even though he understands something is definitely a problem, it doesn't mean he knows how to remedy it. He recognizes logic; he knows things that only a person with 12 PHDs like himself would rightfully know; he's aware that he isn't exactly sane; but his thoughts just don't always connect (if that makes any sense). This makes the way he thinks seem a little nonsensical to us, but make perfect sense to him. He's used to the way his mind works by now, even shattered and disjointed; he's the one who's had to live with it for the past 30 or so years!

Which is why from his perspective, phones keep ringing even after they're disconnected. So to him, it doesn't make a difference whether or not he cuts their power, because he can still hear the voices on the other side. It makes sense.